


Planting

by SemperAeternumQue



Series: Pyren Brothers AU [1]
Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fintan is mentioned a lot, Gen, I do what I want, No beta we die like Kenric, Past Character Death, Sad, The Pyren Brothers AU, You can't prove the pyren brothers AU isn't canon, just going to make that clear, like don't read this when you're sad it will make you sadder, takes place midway through Everblaze, there's also an unnamed gnome who shows up for like 5 seconds, trans!Bronte is canon in this even if it's not mentioned, transphobes don't read my fics, very sad, wanderlings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22943155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperAeternumQue/pseuds/SemperAeternumQue
Summary: After the light healing that ended in disaster, the world mourns a Councillor, and Bronte mourns his brother.Part of the Pyren Brothers AU and also technically canon compliant.
Series: Pyren Brothers AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648879
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Planting

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo I'm finally getting some of the fic I put on Tumblr crossposted to AO3! Woohoo! (And thanks to the KOTLC rp discord for encouraging me.) 
> 
> Anyways so have this short and painful snippet that is technically compliant with both canon and the Pyren Brothers AU (which is in and of itself canon compliant). Takes place during Everblaze, directly before Kenric's death.

They did not hold a planting for Fintan. They did not put a seed in the ground for Kenric’s murderer. There was no event, no mourners, no crowd to watch a little sapling sprout.

They did not hold a planting for Fintan, but there was a planting held for him. They did not put a seed in the ground for Kenric’s murderer, but there was a seed put in the ground for him. There was no event and no crowd, but there was a mourner.

Bronte approached the entrance to the woods, reading the all-too-familiar inscription. _Not all those who wander are lost._  
His brother certainly had been.

Bronte’s feet carried him further into the woods. The morning was dark, the sun still far from peeking over the horizon. It was even more silent and still in the Wanderling Woods than usual. Even some of the gnomes who tended to the trees were taking their rest now, in the early hours of morning. One of the few who was not met him near the gate, and led him towards the little plot they had helped him find. Here, Fintan’s tree could grow safely-and secretly. 

“Please, let me know if we can help with anything else,” The gnome told him.

Bronte nodded. “Thank you.”

The gnome nodded and retreated.

Alone in the darkness of the woods, Bronte silently retrieved the seed from his pocket, a strand of his brother’s long, blond hair curled around it. He dropped to his knees, digging in the dirt with his bare hands. After a minute of digging, the hole was deep enough to lay the seed softly into. 

“Fintan…” _My brother, my enemy, my friend, my first supporter, my friend’s murderer…_

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better brother, kept you from turning towards the darkness. I’m sorry I chose to have your mind broken. I’m sorry I voted against the healing. I’m sorry chose to have the healing in a room with a glass ceiling.” 

He could hear how choked his voice sounded.

“I hope, wherever you are now, you’re finally at peace. I hope you’re happy. I hope you can see all the things you did, the good and the bad, and make peace with them. I hope you know that I loved you, even when you worked against the Lost Cities, even when you turned the tower to flames and killed my friend, even when you died.”

Bronte places his hands in the pile of dirt he had unearthed. It was a long moment of hesitation before he silently brushed it over the seed, burying it at just the right depth. Instantly, a sapling sprouted, and it was so distinctly Fintan that it took his breath away.

The little tree was thin and small, with leaves that looked more like Spanish moss than proper leaves, blond and just as soft and messy as Fintan’s hair used to be. The trunk was still thin, and the tree almost sickly, but at the top sprouted a single ice-blue flower. It seemed almost hopeful, despite the darkness surrounding him. As he watched it sprout higher, a faint bit of pink illuminated the sky.

Pink was Oralie’s color. Pink was hope and joy and love and a thousand things Bronte had no time for now. Pink was fluffy and silly. But, watching that faint bit of pink, Bronte couldn’t help but think that it signaled a new day, a new light, a fresh hope for their world.

Bronte had learned long ago not to let himself fall into dreaming. And certainly, the darkness in this world took much to face. But how could a world where there were sunsets and sunrises and beautiful splashes of color be entirely cruel?

He climbed to his feet, knowing he had a planting to attend and a thousand things to do, and that the rest of the Council would ask questions if he didn’t show up on time, but resolving to stand strong. _I will survive. I will face the world. I will go on.  
I always do._

**Author's Note:**

> *hides*
> 
> I'M SORRY I PROMISE I DIDN'T INTEND FOR IT TO HURT SO MUCH
> 
> Okay I maybe did a little bit but it got out of hand even for me.


End file.
